Once Upon a Time
by Austra
Summary: Everything was fine till Sneak came. Then Crutchy's heart was broken, his younger sisters and brother were forced to work, and Steel was taken away by Sneak. Companion piece to "Learning to Trust"; can be read in either order.
1. Legendary

**IMPORTANT NOTE- **

**(so as to understand the story)**

**This is the story which Torch starts to tell at the end of my other story "Learning to Trust"; but the neat thing is, you can read which ever story you choose first! Because they work either way!**

**One last thing- although Torch is telling the story, this first chapter is not from her POV. Thank you so much!**

Steel glanced this way and that, and then ducked into a dark doorway, the entrance to a dilapidated house.

Upon entering, a ragged cheer greeted her.

"Don't celebrate too soon," she warned them, "I don't know if I got the right medicine for Crutchy. Here, Snitch- Snatch, don't pull your sister's hair!- take these rolls, Catch, they're too busy fighting-"

While she spoke, she dropped a kiss on her older brother Crutchy's head, poked Snatch, smoothed Snitch's hair, and handed her little sister Catch the rolls, still warm.

"So, sister-mine, who have you "raided" lately?" Crutchy, fifteen, smiled up from his dirty bed as Steel sat down and took his fevered hands in her calloused ones.

"Humph." She sniffed and lifted her chin, then began, with bright eyes, to spin a winning tale of adventure for the benefit of the small, dirty urchins who had gathered close, widening their eyes while stuffing the bread they clutched into hungry mouths.

"And so then I dashed around the bend- and ran straight into baker! There was no way of escape!- I was doomed, they would soon find who I was- and then- suddenly-"

She broke off, grinning cockily, while the children at her feet, starry-eyed, protested with shrieks and whines of, "What next, Steel, what happened next?" and "Oh go _on_! Do go _on_!" and "Oh, Emma-" This came from Catch, the "baby" at five, and was instant shushed.

"Oh _Catch_!" Steel said reproachfully, "you _know_ you're not sup-"

"I know, I know!" Catch sighed, and recited, "don't go outside unless Steel is with you; don't say each other's real names; don't make too much noise; don't talk to strangers-;"

"Yes, yes, you don't have to go through all that. I know you won't do it again. Anyway-" Steel, a born storyteller, who had been telling stories literally out of the cradle, hated the anti-climax, and hurried to mend things. "-Anyway, so then- well- remember, I was doomed, _doomed,_ I tell you!- and then- out of the blue- there comes this boy- about- oh, sixteen, I guess, and he was so tall. . . and ha-aa-andsome. . ."

She fluttered her eyelashes, and pretended to faint, while the others shrieked with laughter. They knew full well that their sister didn't care anything for handsome boys, and that she disliked people saving her, being extremely independent.

"Oh _honestly-_" now she rolled her eyes instead of fluttering them, "_il a été un idiot! Il était si stupide!"_ Steel had learned some French somehow, and when very agitated, annoyed, or angered, would speak it; sometimes mixed with smatterings of German, Spanish, Irish, and Italian. It irritated her family at times, as they generally couldn't understand what she was saying. They knew, however, that she was insulting him. That much was very clear. (Interestingly enough, Steel was known to insult people she hated and people she loved alike and with the same amount of heat. . . strange, _non_?)

She shrugged, and calmed. "Anyway, he had a gang, and they distracted the baker and the grocer while I got away. Still-" her voice softened slightly- "-still, I wonder if they-_der tapfere idiotens!- _got away. . ." Her voice trailed off. She shrugged again, then grinned.

"Muck-a-wiss!" She cried gaily. This time the children knew what she was saying. It was a word that their oldest sister (there had been eight of them) used to say. They were not sure how it had originated other than that, but it meant "come".

0o0o0o0

They are dancing. And the boy lying on the bed is clapping and singing. It's an Irish song.

". . ._Step we gaily, on we go,_

_Arm in arm and row on row!_

_All for Marie's wedding! . . ."_

Now, I should like you to know a little of this family's past. These children did not have an abusive father or a drunk mother; rather, they had had loving and caring parents, and, though poor, and often without food, they were not denied the love which young hearts hunger for. Until that fatal day, when their father had been shot by a drunk while trying to share the gospel, and their mother had died in the childbirth of Catch. Far too familiar a story, I am afraid, in those dangerous and disreputable streets.

They had another older brother (married, and living out West), and their oldest sibling, a girl, was likewise occupied, and then another sister, who was looking for a better life for them- however, the legendary Spot Conlon, King of Brooklyn, had made an entry into her life, and she was busy dealing with him.

And also- oh, wait. I'm sorry, but further unveiling of their past will have to wait till a future time, because now something very important is occurring: Someone is banging on their door, causing it to fall in. The knocking personnel likewise tumbles into the room, landing in an undignified heap on the floor, revealing-

0o0o0o0o0

-"_Sneak!"_ squawked Steel, paralyzed. Somewhere in the distance, as if on cue, a bang was heard. The noise seemed to bring her to her senses. She gasped and threw herself across his body.

"You, um, know him?" Crutchy asked rather uncertainly.

No answer.

"Um- could I- have a little, er, help, uh, here?" The heap said quite as dignifiedly as can be expected from someone who has just knocked over a door and himself.

"Yes- " -turning to his siblings- "-Snitch, Snatch, Catch, go help him." Turning back to the stranger, he explained apologetically, "I would help you but I can't. I have the fever, and I'm lame."

The others knew that Steel would protest at this; she disliked for him to admit a weakness to anyone, much less, a stranger. However, strangely, she remained silent.

Snatch, the nine-year-old boy, investigated. "She's- she's _bleeding_!" He was shocked.

Crutchy, with a strangled cry, leapt from his bed, grabbed his crutch, and threw himself on the ground beside Steel.

"Steel!" He screamed, crying, "_Steel_!" He stared down at her unconscious face.

Her back was bleeding at an alarming rate.

She had been shot.

"No!" The howl was torn from him.

Someone- the stranger- tugged at his sleeve. "Listen, kid, I'm really sorry that your broad* got shot. Really. But listen- " as Crutchy attempted to brush him off- "I come to tell you that you guys better get outta here. They're comin' after you. Cause your girl stole from 'em."

"Oh-" Crutchy was still wild with grief "-she's my sister! My _sister. . ._" Tears poured down his cheeks.

Abruptly, after about ten seconds of this, he sat up, the boy's words penetrated.

"Are you the kid that helped her today?" He inquired weakly.

The boy nodded. "I'm Sneak."

"Oh." He smiled a weak, pitiful smile. "She said you were handsome. And she was worried about you."

The boy seemed pleased. "She certainly didn't express those sentiments just then. She called me some unrepeatable names in French."

"Oh, you know-?" Suddenly, Crutchy gasped. Outside the angry voices of men could be heard.

"Quick, quick! We gotta move!" Sneak scooped Steel up in his arms- _She would be soooo angry if she knew!- _and barreled towards the door, Snitch, Snatch, and Catch helping Crutchy- "_Wait!_" Crutchy cried in a stage whisper. "They'll just be waiting for us to come out that door!"

"Well, what are we gonna do about that? We've got a dying girl on our hands and not a second to loose!"

Crutchy winced at this, but yelled back, still in a desperate whisper, "There's a secret exit. C'mon, follow me!"

Sneak hesitated, then rushed after him. Crutchy showed him a trapdoor which led out into another shop. They went through it, and then sneaked through the shop and out onto the street.

They took all the back alleyways so that they wouldn't get caught.

Finally Crutchy grew worried. He didn't have a clue as to where they were, or where they were headed. "Where are we going?" He inquired of Sneak.

"'Hattan Newsies Lodging House." Sneak replied briefly. "They'll give the little lady help. Kloppy's a doc."

Crutchy was wondering who "Kloppy" was when suddenly they came to a stop in front of a building that, in the dim light, he could make out the words "Newsboy's Lodging House".

"All right," Sneak whispered, "here we are. You and your family can get work as newsies, and you can live here."

"Thanks," Crutchy whispered back, genuinely grateful, yet there was something about this boy that he didn't trust. Something- dark and. . . secretive-

His thoughts were cut off abruptly as they entered the LH and confronted some boys. "Hiya Jack, Race, Blink," he nodded to each in turn. "I need to see Kloppy, this girl's been shot."

Jack came over, smoking his cigar nonchalantly, but Crutchy could see the wary look in his eyes.

_So- this Sneak guy must really be dangerous! I mean, if _Jack Kelley's _afraid of him! _Thought Crutchy in amazement. He'd heard (of course) of the legendary Jack Kelley.

Jack looked her over- _felt _her over (which made Crutchy grind his teeth) and then nodded. "There's no rip-off," he murmured to the others, and Crutchy heard him. So did Sneak. He bristled. "I told you I'd gone straight," he said stiffly to Jack.

Jack smirked. "Yeah well I've learned a thing or two since then. Such as, to never trust the likes of you."

Sneak seemed to have a sense of the dramatic. "I don't care what you think of me," he said quietly in thrilling tones (why is it that the hero always talks "quietly" and in "thrilling tones"?). "All I care about is that this family here gets help."

Just then Steel awoke. "Very- noble- of you- I'm sure-" she managed to groan haltingly.

"You must not use your strength!" cried Sneak desperately.

"Heaven save me the drama." moaned Steel, and then completely collapsed.

"See!" exclaimed Sneak dramatically, "I _told_ you I'd gone straight!"

Just then Kloppman came up and enlisted the help of Kid Blink and Mush to help him with Steel.

"Yeah well," said Jack, "I'm just thinkin' of that oddah time you said you'd gone straight. Remember, with Davina. . .?" His voice trailed off.

"I'm guessing this may not be appropriate for the tiny tots?" Crutchy muttered, looking very hard in the direction of Kloppman's disappearance.

"Yeah well," Sneak sneered, "_that_ was different. She was so perfect, I had to mess her up."

"So you're saying Steel _isn't_ perfect?" Crutchy bristled.

Sneak nonchalantly examined his cigar, which he'd just grabbed out of Race's mouth. "Yeah, sure. I mean, she would be awfully boring if she was perfect." Then he swaggered down the hall to where they'd taken Steel. Crutchy, concerned about him and Steel being together, hurriedly hobbled down the hall after them.

**That was a nice long one, so- I WANT NICE LONG REVIEWS! Do be decent enough to drop a line, just a single solitary word even. **

***"Broad" means basically a girlfriend. So Sneak thinks that Steel is Crutchy's girlfriend, and he (Sneak) doesn't know that they (Crutchy and Steel) are brother and sister. =D**


	2. This is WRONG!

**Whenever there's a star after something, there'll be a note at the bottom explaining it.**

"Hey Steel," Sneak said softly, suddenly materializing at her elbow, "I got just the place for us!"

"Why do you do that, Sneak?" Inquired Steel, who, after her initial jump, was completely calm. Sneak had a habit of, well, sneaking. He didn't seem to ever be able to do anything in a straightforward manner*.

"'Cause," He replied, smirking, "it's just what I'm good at. And- there's someone I want to- impress." He leaned forward.

Steel quickly looked away, pretending not to notice that Sneak wanted to kiss her.

"Sneak," she began slowly, "there's- something I ought to- tell you."

"What?" Sneak hid a scowl. Generally Steel let him kiss her.

"Well- I just- been kind of thinkin' about it-" she desperately wanted to kiss him, but she knew that what Crutchy said- "and I think it's just wrong." -was right.

"_What_?" Sneak's face looked as though she'd just told him that he'd grown two heads.

"Yeah, you're right." She said, trying to keep her voice steady. She felt sick. She just didn't have the guts to say no. She never did.

Although she may be tough and streetwise, and strong and a good leader, she was very weak when it came to the moral decisions.

"Ain't I always?" It was more of a statement than a question.

_No, almost never, as a matter of fact, _Steel thought, but what she said was, "Yeah, of course."

"That didn't seem very- _enthusiastic_." Said Sneak, leaning forward.

Steel, thinking, _I think I'm about to throw up!, _did likewise and found their lips connecting.

One part of her screamed, "No, no, no! This is so wrong! I hate this! You're strong enough to do what you know is right!"

The other part, "Yes, yes, yes! This is the right thing to do! I love this! I'm strong enough to make my _own _decisions!"

Steel was torn. Finally, Sneak broke away and said, "Meet me on Bottle Alley. We're gonna go from there to the Bronx." He saw, in the distance, a figure hobbling over. "Love you." He said, gave her a quick kiss, and sneaked away again, disappearing- almost melting- into the shadows.

"Love me." Steel said quietly, bitterly. "_Love _me!" She choked back a sob. "_Love me!_" She wanted to wail. "Oh, what do I _do_!"

She could just not go to Bottle Alley. But that was no good; Sneak would simply find her again and ask her why she wasn't there. Or would just follow her around and see that she went. Or- she shuddered- use other means.

She made up her mind quickly. She would go, rather than have Sneak do something to her. Maybe she could do something once she was there.

Crutchy came up, and she did her best to hide the tears in her eyes.

**Gracious, what a sad story! Well, I gave you a short chapter because you guys are ungrateful wretches, and anyway, I've already updated today. =D Oh, and I made it so that **_**Learning to Trust **_**is 22 chapters instead of 36! Isn't that exciting! Well, R&R!**

**-Austra**

***Look at the bottom of chapter 14 of **_**Learning to Trust. **_


	3. Scheduled

** SWLB asked for another chapter _so_ nicely that I _had_ to update. ;-P This one's for you, SWLB. **

**Oh, and by the way, this part is taken from the POV of the setting of Torch telling the story. Sorry if that sounds confusing- but I think you'll be able to follow along all right.**

"And you went with him?" There was a note of betrayal in David's voice.

A tear made a trail on Torch's dusty cheek before she could stop it. "Yes." she whispered. "I won't go into all the details... but yes, I did, and paid the consequences."

"What were the consequences?" Racetrack's voice seemed to be changing all over again. In other words, it cracked.

Torch shook her head, then said, "Can't you see I'm undergoing them now?" She looked at David, whose face said that he felt betrayed.

Jeans pressed her lips together. "Be sure your sin will find you out." she quoted.

Torch nodded, then continued, "Well, I eventually decided I couldn't take any more. I left. But it wasn't that easy. It wasn't because he loved me that he followed me; it was because I was the one that was holding his gang together. And what's more, a lot of them left him and followed me when I left. People only ever followed him when they were doing it in their sleep." She shook her head, then continued.

* * *

Steel had decided she had to take care of Sneak for once and for all. She was scheduled to fight him at the docks today.

And that was where she was going right now.

There was Sneak, smirking and waiting for her. "You do realize," Sneak remarked, "that you're not going to win."

"You do realize," Steel retorted, "that this is not going to make anyone follow you."

Sneak chuckled. "Touche."

And the fight began.


	4. And About My Name

Torch continued with her story, "Well, we fought, and I won. I thought I'd killed him. I mean- I stabbed him. I ran away as fast, as hard, and as far as I could. When my legs gave out, I had run to the the border of Queens and Brooklyn. I went into the Queen's Newsies Lodging House and got a job. Then I one day, I wandered into Brooklyn. Spot had always wanted to meet this woman leader of Queens." Now her face had an impish glow to it. "Admit it, Spot, you were jealous. I was getting to be just as famous as you."

Spot rolled his eyes, "You couldn't touch me. You still can't. You never will."

Torch grinned. "I am right now. I am the only one who knows everything about you."

Spot grunted and scooted closer to Jeans. "Well, I don't really care anymore, anyway."

Torch looked at him. "Anyway."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"So." Spot took his cane out of his belt loop. "Dis is da little lady who claims to be the leader of Queens."

Torch- then still named Steel- bowed.

Spot raised an eyebrow. "Very tactful." He remarked. "I wonder if she means it."

"You _could_ just ask me." She replied. "I am right here, you know. And yes, I did mean it. I'm not fool enough not to be careful around the greatest fighter in New York."

Spot was surprised for perhaps the first time in his life. "So. The little lady-"

"I may be little, and I may be a lady, but I object to that title."

"And she has spirit."

"Yes, well, it might be more a dislike of being called that than spirit."

"Very nice."

Silence reigned.

"Well?" Steel said finally. "Are we just gonna stand here with our teeth in our mouths and our bare faces hanging down?"

Spot laughed. "_You_ may if you like." He answered. "But I am going to question you."

Steel bowed; this time mockingly. "Certainly, your majesty."

"How old are you?"

"Fifteen." Too quickly.

"Really."

"Well, nearly."

"How did you get to be the leader of Queens?"

"People follow me."

"Why?"

"It would sound like boasting."

"Just answer the question."

"Because I allow people to have their say and have their own opinions. Because I am strong. Because I can bring people together. Because I know what good leadership looks like, and what a good gang should look or be like."

Spot looked approving. "Conquer that mistrust, that pride, and that immaturity, and you'll just about have it."

"How can you judge me so soon and so correctly?" Steel had no qualms about his being right, nor about his knowing he had been right.

He chuckled. "I study character."

She smiled. "As do I," she replied.

"Your name should be Torch," he said abruptly.

"And _that_ wasn't random at all."

"Aren't you going to ask why?"

"After I overcome my shock."

"Because you are bright, people are led to trust your light, you can set things afire."

"Thank you for acting as though I'm a lost puppy in need of naming."

"You're welcome."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"But I remained Torch," Torch concluded.

"Very appropriately," David murmured, for the first time enjoying this story.


	5. What Jack Didn't Know

**Finally, I am updating this story! **

**IMPORTANT NOTE:**

**"Learning to Trust" (the companion story to this) is currently undergoing a vast and deep-fried revisement. (Hey, I just made up a word! Cool!) So you should check out the revised chapters sometime. **

**I'm glad to be getting back to this story at long last; "Learning to Trust" has some of my favorite characters in it, and I can't wait to complete it.**

* * *

"And so," Torch took a deep breath, "I began to lead the newsies in Queens."

Just then they heard a strangling sound. They looked around to discover a beet-red Jack Kelly. "W-w-ait- ahhhhh..." He sounded like a slowly shrinking balloon. "_You_ were that- that- girl-!"

"Yes," Torch said calmly. "And you're the great leader, and you never knew what went on under your very nose."

"Ahhhhh..."

"Is he gonna be sick?" David said, looking worriedly at Jack. "What's the matter with him?"

"Well." Torch smiled impishly. "I guess that's the next bit I'll tell..."

* * *

"You, da leadah o' _Queens_?" The handsome leader standing before Torch, known as Jack Kelly, laughed. "Prove it."

She responded accordingly. She landed a right hook, rapidly followed by a jab to his gut, a quick feint, and ended with her gripping him in her special hold: her right arm looped through his two, held in the back, and her knife at his throat. None of this was intended to hurt him, for despite his misgivings about girl leaders, she liked him, even if she was a little scared he'd recognize her.

Jack stood, stunned, for about three seconds. Then she felt, rather than saw, a wide grin grow over his face.

Then he asked a question which startled her considerably. "How old are you?"

"_What_!" Surprised, her grip loosened slightly.

He threw himself backwards, causing her to nearly fall over backwards. Torch recovered, however, and had him on the ground, his arm pinioned across his back.

"How old are you?" He repeated the question as though the answer would settle something.

"Fifteen," an unexpected voice said, lazy yet sharp at the same time. "Very good, little sister."

Torch glanced up and grinned. "Thanks, Spot," she answered the cocky boy, "but next time, don't call me things I ain't."

"What? Oh- you mean you ain't very good." That cocksure voice drawled.

"Yeah right. I ain't much smaller than you, and I ain't your little sister anyway."

Another voice came across to me at this interval, sharp and sarcastic. "Well, now, da new leadah o' Queens!" It was Brick, as cutting and sarcastic as ever. "Well, _this_ Torch is going to burn herself out to the ground."

"Yeah, Brick." Said a voice coming from beneath Torch, quietly menacing. She was startled. She allowed Jack to stand, and he faced Brick, daring him to challenge her authority and his choice. "She _is_ the leader of Queens."

She stood in shocked appreciation. The support of Manhattan was huge; and the very fact that Kelly had voiced his agreement to help thus was enormous to her.

Brick stood, stunned. "A _girl _leader?"

Torch blinked. "Why not?" She exclaimed suddenly.

Brick wheeled and gave her a sharp look. Before he could ask anything, she continued, "Why not a girl leader? What's the matter with girls?" She turned her sparkling gaze upon Spot. "Why _not_ a girl leader?" She said, almost tauntingly.

"Why not, indeed," he remarked, quirking an eyebrow. Then he turned to Brick, his face hardening again. "You won't object, certainly," he said smoothly.

Brick glowered and said nothing.

Spot tapped his cane and smiled unpleasantly.

Jack stood with his arms crossed, silently challenging Brick.

Torch stood and looked on with an amused expression (which she had found most effective for making people annoyed).

Finally, Brick muttered, "Yeah. No hard feelings."

But he was glaring quite violently.

At Torch.

* * *

"Wait, wait!" Jack wheezed/shouted in protest. "That was _you_?"

"Yep!" Torch smirked at him. "And you never knew! Isn't that splendid?"

"No, it isn't," Jack grumped, but allowed Torch to continue with the next part of the story- this time, someone else's...

* * *

**He he! So happy... well, what do you think? Reviews are muchly appreciated! (I just invented a word again! How exciting!)**

**-Austra**


	6. And in England

_"...Torch continue[d] with the next part of the story- this time, someone else's..."_

"Now," Torch continued, "while Crutchy and I (and all our younger siblings) were living in that old house, a certain girl and boy were living in England, both trying to get to America..."

* * *

"Hey Patrick! C'mon! We're going to celebrate Guy Fawke's Day with the Georges today, remember!"

Rags jumped on top of the pile of sacks which served as his bed, expecting him to jump up, striking at the air with his fists and yelling.

Nothing.

An icy chill went down the girl's spine. Fear gripped her.

"Patrick?" She whispered, trembling.

When living on the streets, you never knew when you may try to wake someone up, only to find that they are dead.

Shaking, she pulled back the thin sack that served as a blanket, to find-

Nothing.

Rags breathed out a sigh of relief. Well, at least that was progress. Maybe he had gotten up unusually early. Where would he have gone?

Well, he probably had _not _gone to the park, which was where we had been going to celebrate; he didn't want to celebrate in the first place.

Then Rags thought of something. Could he have possibly... gone to America without her? After all their plans together about going...

Impossible! She told herself, but she knew she didn't believe it. Rags ran, almost unwillingly, to the docks.

And bit back a scream of rage.

For there was Patrick, his meager baggage in hand, waiting to board a ship with his usually-drunk father, who Rags hadn't seen for many a month, not since he'd kicked Patrick out.

But the only thought on her mind just then was- _Patrick's deserting me!_

0o0o0o0o0o0

Rags ran up to Patrick. "Patrick Conlon, what the rudd-"

"I'm soory, Rags-." he began in his strong Irish accent; then glanced over at his father and pulled her aside. "Pa wants to go to America. And withoot you. He says I've goot to coome, and that you can't."

Rags was stunned. "But- but surely you could-"

He gently, but firmly, covered her mouth with his hand. "Noo. I'm soory Rags. But if he finds you oot, he might beat ye to death. He's soo unpredictable. Ye have to watch ye'r step."

Rags was no longer angry, merely confused and deeply hurt now.

He sighed. "Here," he whispered, and pressed something into Rags' hand. "I want you to have this."

She looked down at it. It was his key. She gave him hers- and a hug.

"P-promise you won't forget me!" She whispered tearfully into his ear.

"I woon't." he promised. "Niver. And- goodbye- _Laura._"

She smiled at him through her tears. "Goodbye, Patrick!"

She watched him as they boarded the ship.

Sometimes she lost sight of them because of the crowd, but she nearly always kept the blonde head in view.

They had tied the keys on old, dirty strings around their necks, and as the ship pulled out of harbour, and began slowly sailing away, Patrick lifted the key in silent salute and waved.

Rags did the same, and when she had watched the ship 'till it was out of sight, she ran back to his pile of dirty sacks and rags and threw herself face-downwards and wept.

* * *

Cocky's face was a mask of supreme shock. "_How did you know_?" She asked, her voice shaking with passion.

Torch shrugged and sighed. "Spot told me." Then she smiled slightly at Cocky. "Would you like to tell us how you got from England to here? And what you've been doing all this time?"

Cocky nodded slowly and began. "After I'd lain there for some time..."


End file.
